


And From Your Lips She Drew the Hallelujah

by ElmiDol



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending?, M/F relationship, Multi, Polyamory, Post TLJ, Reader with Reylo, TLJ Spoilers, Threesome - F/F/M, Very vaguely described Sex, f/f relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElmiDol/pseuds/ElmiDol
Summary: Peace is a curious thing. Some strive to achieve it, while others already have it. What makes all the pain of living worth it is sometimes the simplest thing of all: love.





	And From Your Lips She Drew the Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juulna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juulna/gifts).



** And From Your Lips She Drew the Hallelujah **

Written by: Elmidol

{For: Juulna}

_Hallelujah_

_performed by Peter Hollens feat. Jackie Evancho_

 

The easy thing was to hate life, with all the pain one was offered each day. You had managed to build a high tolerance. Others referred to you as strong, which had you staring at them in confusion and disbelief. They were blissfully oblivious to the cracks in your armor. None could know the thoughts that ran through your head: it would be easier to lay down and die. The pain would end. Your aches fading away into numbness, into nothing. You were far too stubborn, however, to take the easy route. Instead you forged through the currents of the waves that lashed at you. The hard thing was to love life, yet somehow you found there was something—someone—that made all the suffering fade away, even if only for a moment. A moment, dear one, can last forever.

 

It truly felt like forever when she was in your arms or you in hers. Though war broke the pair of you apart, your beloved was never truly gone. She sent messages to you via encrypted channels and devices. Even on the days that you could not rise from bed, when the pain was too great and the emotional strain of pretending to be strong got the better of you, you opened your eyes long enough to check for her messages. And, best of all, to look upon the picture of her face.

 

Even now your eyes traced along the contours of her visage. Delicate. Fierce. She amazed you not just due to her physical strength, but for her level of perseverance. Such individuals generally fell into the habit of pushing you far beyond your limits until you crashed, burning out and being forced to endure the chastisement of not swallowing the pain and moving forward. Your beloved was not like that. She accepted you for who you were, both the good and the bad.

 

Your favorite moments were when she helped to ease the stones thrown your way on that hard path that is life. When lying, naked, in bed beside her, you would whisper a story. There was much that she had missed out in her childhood, and, oh, how she adored the stories of _your_ past. You had had a family whereas she had been alone. As you recalled your life, the goddess who was wrapped in the silk of your sheets caressed the side of your face with splayed fingers—just the very tips of them. Your breath had a tendency to hitch, which brought a large grin to her face. Her eyes would then dance along your entire countenance as she drank in your reaction in full. She delighted in her capabilities to take your breath away.

 

Which, in hindsight, was almost ironic given that that was how you had met _him_. Clutching at your throat, you had wondered how it was that the pain he was administering to your body was ironically… Well, it was quite a joke in comparison to the days when your conditions flared up the worst. Your sardonic smile, the choked out laugh had caused him pause. That pause gave way to a repetition of the pressure, though only briefly. It was, in your opinion, experimental. He had been attempting to learn whether or not you were mocking him. And, upon discovering that your reaction had nothing at all to do with him, not really—you had been rubbing at your throat and in near hysterics when he had stepped closer to you, when he had squatted down at watched you with a curiosity that was almost childlike.

 

His hand was trembling when he reached for your face. You later learned that he was baffled by you. How you were not terrified of death though you clearly were not actively seeking it. You were, essentially, passive about it. Factual.

 

He flinched the moment the tips of his fingers met your cheek, for in that moment of contact he was forced to face that fact that you were real. Perhaps if your laughter had been more hollow when you had marveled over the fact that him choking you had been _nothing_ in comparison with your daily life; perhaps if that had been the case, he would never have become so intrigued.

 

You were left alive, and damn if you did not experience the conflicting emotions of relief and disappointment all at once. The level of hysterics you then displayed had him staring down at you though he had risen to his full height with the intention of leaving. You cried while laughing, shaking your head. The laughter hurt your body with its violence as sobs threatened to tear from your throat. Your mind was not on the present any longer. It was on her, on your beloved. Because if this man was here right now, you were aware that he was not with her, not harming her, not attempting to sway her loyalties.

 

When he surged forward and his lips met yours, your breathing did stop and so did your emotional reaction to it all. With this man there with you, it felt suddenly as though he were threatening to sway _your_ loyalties.

 

He broke away from you without waiting for you to respond to the kiss. You learned, much later, that it had been the expression of joy mingled with despair that had drawn him closer. The peace in your eyes that he had wanted to feel for himself. As though a kiss could transfer such a state of mind. Which—such an ironic thing! You had not realized yourself that you had been at peace until you were given time to reflect. You had not been lamenting or stressing or agonizing over anything at all. Your beloved was safe. You could _feel_ it. Knowing that you had a reason to get up in the morning if you survived; and, if you did not, that your death meant she was not on the other end of _his_ blade… Either outcome was something you could easily accept.

 

For a man in such turmoil, he had been unable to fathom how anyone could experience that sense of true peace.

 

And you? Your sense of peace had momentarily erased all pain.

 

Subsequent to the First Order having tracked down the Resistance base at which you had been located, you and the other survivors were relocated to a different planet. It was there that she next saw you. You were wrapped in a blanket. The pain in your body had flared up, resulting in an extended absence from duty. You were thus unaware that your beloved had returned to you until she entered the room in which you were lying down. You sat up, wincing as you completed the task, and quickly averted your eyes.

 

“He kissed me.” You would never keep such a thing from the woman you loved. She paused in the doorway, her eyebrows drawn towards one another in confusion. As much as you attempted to not look at her at all, fearing her reaction, it was impossible to avoid things that entered your peripheral. You raised a hand to your throat, touching near your windpipe with three fingers. “I always thought that I would be afraid.”

 

“He’s conflicted still then…” You heard the tremor in her voice; unease, a hesitancy that you knew stemmed from her ability to empathize with the Dark side user. There was an absence of jealousy on your part when it came to that. This was something that had helped you to fall further in love with the woman who had once been forced to survive the harsh world of Jakku. Where many saw a hopeless situation, the woman you loved, while not blindly optimistic, endured. She encouraged others to survive as well. She and her counterpart—the man who had altered his intentions from aiming to kill to instead kissing you—had similarities when it came to personal history.

 

You shifted your eyes to her, discovering that she had a warm, albeit slightly sad, smile. Her fondness for you shined in her expression, and she pushed away from the doorway, hitting the panel that ensured it closed as she erased the distance between the two of you. Her hazel eyes scanned your face then dropped to your neck. It was here that she touched you. The pads of her fingers were rough—callused from all her years on Jakku, and due to the training and battles she had undergone. Somehow it was the softest caress you had ever felt. It always was when it came from her. When she leaned down, you tilted back your head in anticipation for the kiss. The feel of her lips against yours sent electricity down your spine; you shuddered, gasping as though all air had left your lungs in the best of ways. You were, as always, in awe of how perfect she was.

 

“Rey,” you whispered, earning a hum. The vibrations from the sound traveled through your entire body. Rey traced her hand up from your neck to instead cup your cheek. You leaned into her touch. Ah, how you had missed it. This was worth living for no matter how painful life could be. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t need to apologize,” she murmured. It was not chastising in the least, the words she spoke and how she said them. Her hand left your face; it was joined by its twin as she began to undo the front of her clothing. Your pupils dilated, lips parting so that you could breathe more easily—she always stole your breath away with both her inner and outer beauty. Your limbs disappeared underneath the blankets so that you were able to strip out of your own clothes.

 

Rey pushed aside the blankets, the woman climbing atop you. She was gentle, as always—she never hurt you; her touches helped to ease your pain rather than exacerbate it, and you knew better than anyone else that she used the Force at times to ensure this. Her breasts pressed against yours, her nipples hardening at the change in temperature that her flesh experienced now that it was bared. You slipped your hands onto her hips, all the while relishing in how she cupped your face and kissed you. This time it was more sensual. Her lips well knew the shape of your mouth, her tongue just as familiar. It danced along with yours. Your shared kisses were never a battle. There was no need to fight for dominance, for in her eyes you were her equal. It did not matter where you came from, how fragile your body may have been, or anything of the sort.

 

Because she loved you, you were perfect in her eyes.

 

It felt as though your heart swelled as she rolled her hips, her pelvis rotating in a manner that had you gasping underneath her, and her sighing in pleasure above you. Rey tilted her head to pay your neck more attention. Next, your collarbone. She placed kisses along it, her tongue dipping out to trace patterns that had your toes curling and your back arching off the bed.

 

In the aftermath of climax, sweat gathered on your body and hers, you laid in her arms. Rey bent one arm at the elbow to toy with your hair. She ran first two then just a single finger through the strands.

 

Though you had no abilities when it came to the Force, you could somehow feel the moment that the connection wavered. It was in the way Rey slowly moved the hand from your hair to your upper arm, as though she were attempting to pull you more tightly against herself without hurting you or making her actions too obvious. This was not to conceal anything from you, not exactly. It was an act of love; she wished to shield you from the other. Not that he could hurt you from wherever he was. You were unable to see him. Still, you flicked your eyes up to Rey’s face in order to follow the trail of her stare to the area three feet from the foot of the bed.

 

“No.” It was spoken harshly; a cry past irritation and straight into anger. You could not help but wonder what the Dark side Force user had said or asked to warrant such a response. Rey was not one to give into her anger, not as of late. She refused to allow herself to stray too far towards the Dark side lest she face the same fate as Ben Solo. The man who was now Kylo Ren, you thought. The man who had kissed you. “I won’t— _she_ will not.”

 

The intensity with which she hissed the words had the hairs on your arms rising. You set a hand on her lower belly to help calm her. Rey flinched at your touch, the woman turning her head and looking at your with an expression of worry. What could be making her so afraid, you wondered. All you knew was that you wanted to help ease that worry. You wanted to erase any pain or discomfort from her life.

 

“We won’t surrender to you.” Though she was meeting your gaze as the words were spoken, you were aware they were directed at Kylo Ren. What unnerved you most of all was that you knew the _we_ in her statement was not the Resistance. The _we_ was you and Rey. “We’re not afraid… Not of you. Not of death. We’re not afraid to die, Ben.”

 

Your eyes widened here. She referred to him by that name only in passing; it had been some time—months—since you had been aware of her calling him it to his face.

 

Rey’s body seemed to spasm against yours as the connection was ended. She gnashed her teeth together and squeezed her eyes closed. “Rey,” you whispered.

 

“He said he’d be able to protect you if I joined him.” There was a deep ache to her words. The underlying desperation bringing forth a quiver, drawing tears to the corners of her eyes. They trailed down her face, and her eyelashes fluttered. “I wasn’t there to protect you that time.”

 

“I wasn’t afraid, Rey,” you said.

 

“I was. I don’t want to lose you.” You ached now for her. This woman who made living bearable even on the worst of days. For her, you would die a thousand deaths and more if she needed you to. Yet that was what she feared most: that you would die. You clamped down any protests for her sake. The words she had spoken to Kylo Ren had not been false. Neither of you were afraid to die, however you were each, in your own way, afraid to lose one another. “I just want this war to _end_.” Rey’s teeth clattered together as she spoke. You could feel her body trembling, and you turned onto your side in order to wrap your arms around her. She twisted in your hold, her leg hooking over your hip and her arms crossed behind your back as she clung desperately to you. “He said we would both be safe if we were with him.”

 

You stroked her hair. Listening, you squeezed your eyes closed as tightly as you could when the first silent sob had her body jerking. The next was less violent, however you still felt it.

 

On some level, she was hurting because she held out faith that, if he chose to, Ben Solo could save himself. Not in the eyes of the entire galaxy—no, he had committed far too many atrocious crimes for such a thing. But for himself. For his mother. For the people who did or could love him, he would be able to repent for some of those heinous deeds. Rey clung onto the idea that good could be found in the most evil of places. She had had to hold onto such beliefs to survive Jakku. A tale she had told you, one that had increased your love for her during the first few weeks of your relationship, was that she had had a plant on Jakku, with which she had shared her limited supply of water. As many times as Kylo Ren failed himself and others by choosing the Dark over the Light, there was a small part of Rey that clasped onto the idea that he could still change if he gave himself that chance.

 

How you loved her for that.

 

These sentiments made the memory of the kiss given to you by the man less of an embarrassment, and more of a spark of hope. That he had allowed you to live, no matter his reasoning, watered the seed in Rey’s heart and mind that she could see the day Kylo Ren returned to being Ben Solo, even if it was a new version of him. The post-war version. The flawed yet still loved version.

 

“I know he wants to change. He is not at peace with himself. He may have thought he was, but he isn’t.”

 

Her crying had softened. Rey’s tears were for numerous things. Unspoken frustrations. Memories of the battlefield that she refused to share with you; she did not want anyone burdened with such mental images. People—her friends and yours alike—were dying every day to defeat the First Order. They fought against tyranny.

 

“He’ll turn… I saw it.” Her meek words were a repetition of what you had heard her say in the past, on the occasions during which she had met him on the battlefield. He did not always hold back when it came to their battles, however he rarely moved in for the kill unless provoked. A large part of Kylo Ren did not want to end Rey’s life. He wanted her to join him; no matter how many times she rejected his offer, he extended it again and again.

 

You were in no way jealous of Kylo Ren’s love for Rey; it only made your feelings far more ardent. She was precious, and you were not the only individual to recognize that. All who came into contact with your beloved easily saw how precious she was.

 

Rey’s trembling subsided as you began to sing to her. Her breathing regulated, those soft lips ghosting over your breast. She would not kiss your lips, for she did not want to silence your voice.

 

~

 

Though it pained her to leave you again, she could not deny that the Force was calling her to fight for the galaxy. The voices of those in pain, in trouble—you did not envy her abilities in the Force in the same way she did not envy the agony your body caused you. The pair of you embraced with whispered words of love, stating that this was not a goodbye. It never was. Each and every occasion that had the two of you separating was merely an _until next time_. Because, deep down, you each knew that Death itself would not be able to divide you forever.

 

It was here that, rather than merely spare your life, the man who had once kissed you saved it. The blaster shot that would have torn through your skull and created that temporary, prolonged separation until Rey, too, perished—an unthinkable thought—was frozen midair when it was four inches away from hitting its mark.

 

As before, you were not afraid. Death would mean an ending to your physical pain. You were doubled-over, your arms wrapped around your midsection and sweat dripping down your back. Your weight gave out underneath you, and you dropped to your knees. Kylo Ren jerked his wrist. Your eyes followed the course of the blaster bolt until the resultant explosion of it meeting stray machinery became too bright for you to stare at. Thus you peered at Darkness instead. His unmasked face had not shifted; those brown orbs, impossibly wide, were staring at you. His actions had surprised him.

 

“Why aren’t you afraid to die?” he asked. There was an accusation in his voice that had you wrinkling your nose. “You aren’t anything special. No one will remember you.”

 

“Rey will remember me.” Not that you knew why you were responding. The tick of a clock later, and it dawned on you. You replied to him because, by asking the question, he had proven that _he_ would remember you. Somehow, for reasons you and he and Rey could not explain, Kylo Ren would remember you if you died. “You can be nothing and absolutely everything at the same time.”

 

His throat bobbed when he swallowed thickly, your words prompting him to take a single step backwards and straighten his posture. The grip he had on his lightsaber tightened. You glanced at the plasma blade. It was much different than the weapon used by your beloved. Kylo Ren—like a child, your mind supplied—extended his arm and pointed the tip of his blade in your direction. You sighed as you stared at the blade. The threat it presented was not anything you had not yet faced in this war. It would be a bliss to die, for the pain that had you bent nearly in half would fade away. It would be terrible to perish, for Rey was afraid to lose you. You were at peace with whatever the man chose in this moment.

 

When he dropped his arm to his side simultaneous to deactivating his lightsaber, Rey’s words repeated themselves in your head.

 

_He’ll turn… I saw it._

 

He marched forward, ducking to where his shoulder caught you in the midsection while his arm wrapped around you. You grunted and winced as he lifted you off your feet. Kylo Ren did not head in the direction of the First Order vehicles from whence he had come. Instead, he carried you past the destruction and through the chaos. At times, Ren would whip his hand to the side, using the Force to thrust away objects or projectiles; other times had him activating his lightsaber long enough to deal with them. Your mind was going a mile a minute, however your body could hardly keep up. You dangled there, feeling emotionally numb and confused.

 

You were able to hear his boots on the ramp of the shuttle before you saw evidence of the vehicle. Neither of you had spoken a word to the other since before he had pointed the lightsaber your way. This did not change, not even when he set you down on one of the seats and hit the panel that caused the ramp to lift. You scrambled to pull on the restraints. Turning back to you, Kylo Ren batted at your hands and seized the belt. It took little effort at all for him to secure you to the seat so that you would not go flying forward when the ship launched.

 

The pain had increased, shooting down your sides and legs to your toes. You called to mind memories of Rey. It was worth surviving this all for her sake, you told yourself. This pain was temporary. Rey was your forever.

 

The stars turned into streaks when the ship jumped into hyperspace. You lifted your head enough to look towards the windshield. Kylo Ren had his back to you, however you could feel his eyes on you via the reflection you cast in the glass through which you were gazing. His lips moved. You caught their movement in the surface he was watching. _You’re so peaceful_. The idea of it initially made you want to laugh—the laughter would have wracked your frame and increased your discomfort, which made you thankful that you did not. In the seconds that followed, though, you remembered that this man had been conflicted in his thoughts for years. The Dark. The Light. The various paths he could take, and the want for Rey to join him. You knew that he was lonely, even if that loneliness largely stemmed as a result of his own choices in life. Ultimately, he was not at peace.

 

You could understand his interest in you. It was, to you, still superficial in that he did not know you as a person. Rey had been drawn to you for similar reasons. The two of you balanced one another. There were different kinds of peace and serenity that were brought to the table.

 

Kylo Ren’s eyes jerked off of your face, the man staring directly ahead of himself. “You’re angry…” You held your breath to better listen, straining to hear Rey’s voice though you knew that this was an impossibility. “She won’t be hurt. I told you… I can protect both of you.”

 

There was an air of arrogance to his words, and yet you could hear, too, the desperation there. A pleading for Rey to join him. Which baffled you given that he had left the First Order and Resistance behind when taking this ship. Ren was no fool; at times, while you were in her arms and she was recounting the details she was willing to share of her battles, your beloved told you of his temperament and habits. He had to be aware that what he had done amounted to treason.

 

Unless he aimed to lure Rey, and bring her head to the First Order. You knew that he would not. There was a fondness in his voice when he spoke to her. Where with others he was demanding, there were openings for the rejection Rey had greeted him with several times in the past.

 

“You’ll find me…and her…”

 

You pitched to the side in your seat as the shuttle exited hyperspace. The lines of stars once again became dots. Looming in view was a planet, though not one whose name you knew off the top of your head. You were not aware of which system you were in. It was nowhere that the Resistance had mentioned to you. Likely a neutral planet; that idea made you roll your eyes. Neutral meant only that they did not care whom they served. It all boiled down to money when it came to the political figureheads of each planet.

 

The Dark side Force user landed the shuttle not far from the outskirts of a town; it was there that he took you. Rather than throw you over his shoulder as he had on the battlefield, the man carried you bridal-style. You did not complain. The landing had been overall smooth, yet it proved to exacerbate the discomfort you were experiencing. Those small, unavoidable bumps had the pain now bone-deep. You clutched at the front of Kylo Ren’s tunic, balling the material in your hands, and alternated between holding your breath and clenching your teeth to muffle your whimpers.

 

Had you not appreciated the soft mattress, you would have objected to Ren’s use of the Force to mind trick the inn keeper to secure a room free of charge. A fugitive. Not waiting for the law to arrive. It was Rey who would come, no matter how long it took her.

 

You arranged the pillows behind yourself to where you were half-sitting up. Being curled, bending in half lessened the pain. This was also beginning to spread to your back, which meant that your posture needed to be improved if you hoped to make it through this flare up as easily as possible.

 

Kylo Ren had moved onto a chair, pulling it away from the round table that would seat two and facing it in your direction. He rested his elbows on his knees and draped his hands in front of himself. His eyes refused to leave you. You stared back at him, though it was not his eyes that interested you. Those lips moved so easily around his words:

 

“You think it was cowardly.”

 

“No.” This was not a lie. “She told me—stars, she told me so many times. You were conflicted.”

 

“I did not leave for her,” he snarled. You would accept that this was a half-truth. He had, in part—perhaps a large part—left for her. “Is that what you believe?”

 

“She’s everything to me,” you said without hesitation. “I would leave anything for her. I would give anything for her.”

 

Kylo Ren swayed in place. His shoulders dropped and he fell back against the chair. You at last raised your eyes from his mouth. The man stared at you in wonderment and awe. Oh, you knew. The words he had once spoken to your beloved were no secret from you. When she had made to bring him from the Dark, he had called her nothing—nothing, except to him. His words, twisted, may have been intended to portray what you did tell her. And yet you had offered her far more. She was not just everything _to you_. She was everything in general. She was everything in and of herself.

 

You were able to experience a sense of peace that was foreign to Kylo Ren because you did not need to drag someone down to place them at your side. You were content to watch them soar with the knowledge that they would return to you. That there was _always_ something that connected you with them. Distance was of no consequence. That was everything.

 

As though ashamed of his limitations, Kylo Ren altered his position on the chair. He angled away from you. A smile tugged at your lips.

 

“She’s easy to love.” His eyes alone jerked back in your direction. “You don’t have to… You don’t have to be perfect with her. You’re still…” Your voice trailed off as you thought of all the compliments she paid you when the two of you were together. The whispered words of love and adoration. “It only takes a candle to hold the darkness at bay.” It was, albeit paraphrased, what Rey had mentioned to you a handful of months before when you were at your worst.

 

Night fell upon the world, and you slept with your usual sense of peace with the knowledge that Rey was safe, that she was heading to where you were. You would see her again, and thus you had a reason to get up in the morning. Until that Light came, the Dark moved closer. It was filled with flickers of light; wishes upon stars.

 

Kylo Ren sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard and looking down at you. Yours was not a soundless sleep. You stirred on multiple occasions as pain pierced your body. Each time this occurred, you shifted into a more comfortable position and did what you could to sleep again. At the height of your pain, you clasped onto the hand that was offered—your mind did not register this immediately, that the flickering flame of good in him was being nourished by the interactions you allowed him to have with you. Kindness kindling the ignited sparks that had been placed there by Rey.

 

“Don’t you want to be free from the pain?” Soft. He was not whispering because it was night. This man was broken, a fractured image that needed to be rearranged.

 

“That’s the easy part,” you said with a small chuckle. Grunting, you pursed your lips and breathed through them. “You find something… No matter how small, you find something or someone who makes it all worth it. Life is worth living in that moment, and that’s how you get to the next. No matter…” You gasped. Ren’s hand twitched in yours. He wrapped his fingers around you, holding you as much as you were holding him. Clutching to you as he sought answers to questions that had been plaguing him. Answers he, on some level, had to already know. “No matter how bad it gets, they’re worth it. She’s worth it for me. Everything. She is everything. Have you ever seen her smile?”

 

A rhetorical question on your part. Yet he sucked in air as though remembering a smile. Real? Imagined? You did not know, and you would not push for him to hand over the information.

 

“What you have to do, Ben… You have to live with the pain without letting it consume you. It’s the damn hardest thing in the entire universe. But, stars, she’s worth it.”

 

The man did not shy away when you referred to him by his birth name. You could not say for certain that he had fully turned away from the First Order and its ideals. It was likely that he harbored some similar views with the organization he had left behind when he had grabbed you to meet with Rey.

 

Silence wrapped around the pair of you, broken only by the sharp inhalations from you when the pain would spike. Kylo Ren observed you in this quietude. Despite your attempts to put into words the reasoning behind your sense of peace, you knew that he struggled to comprehend it. Numerous times he had believed that he had made up his mind. Killing his father, Han Solo, to solidify his place in the Dark side. That had had the opposite effect, tearing him apart all the more. His emotional agony had increased, which had resulted in Snoke creating the bond that linked him to your beloved. Subsequently, he had lured Rey to him with the hopes that she would accept his offer to join him once Snoke was dead. While they had fought side-by-side with the Praetorian Guards, Rey had made her choice. She had already made her choice.

 

Rey was of the Light, no matter how much the Dark tugged at her. It would pull, and she would ultimately push away from being fully submerged. This baffled Kylo Ren more than anything, the same as how you left him in a state of confusion and awe.

 

The pain you experienced, though primarily physical, had its own emotional toll on you. Anyone who observed you— _truly_ watched you—could see it. The limitations you experienced detracted from joys you would otherwise know.

 

You had no need for those frivolous joys, not with Rey in your life.

 

Of course, you had nowhere near the amount of stains on your soul that Kylo Ren had on his. As you looked to where his hand was touching yours, you thought of your first meeting. The phantom pressure on your throat, had he continued with it, may well have turned you into another of those stains that kept him from being at peace. It was childish and desperate. You could understand why Rey held out hope for him. Even when that hope was nearly gone, stomped all over by each death of Resistance members and civilians and soldiers at the hands of the Dark side user; that hope did not fully disappear.

 

Kylo Ren could have killed you, and yet he had chosen to give into the urge to claim a part of peace for himself with that kiss. Now he had made the decision to save your life.

 

You prayed that Rey’s mind was at ease as she sought you out. You were less afraid of Kylo Ren than you were of death.

 

~

 

The days played out in alterations of slow motion and occasions when time appeared to fly by. You hardly left the bed on the first two of those days. The medications that were brought to you took off the edge, enough to where you could sleep. Eating was a chore for you. Still, you accepted what the man brought, thanking him each time. Initially he would tense when you expressed your gratitude. His eyebrows would draw towards one another, lips pinching into a growing pout, and then he would turn away.

 

On your fifth shared meal with the man who had abandoned the First Order—his ultimate motivations and goals were unclear to you—he again asked you if you wanted to be free from the pain. It caused you to think of Rey’s healing touch. That was a Light side ability, not something Ren could accomplish with the training he had received. Your lips twisted into a wry grin. “If you’re patient, Ben, you’ll figure it out.”

 

His gaze then dropped to the fruit he was holding. Since arriving, the man had either purchased or Force tricked someone into giving him new clothing. Gone were the black materials that had covered him in favor of beige and white. Though you would not say as much aloud, he reminded you greatly of his late father, the pictures you had seen of Han Solo flitting in your mind’s eye. You alternated between referring to him by his birth name and calling him Ren. This depended on his mood. When his eyes collected moisture—not that he ever allowed himself to cry, or at the very least not in front of you—you were careful to not say _Ben_. That was one of his personal demons, the things that drove away the peace he would otherwise know.

 

Having grown comfortable in his presence, you did not hesitate to sing quietly to yourself as you peered out the window on a sunny day. You had left the room earlier in the morning then returned. Rey would sense the man you were with, and that was how she would find you. You needed to remain by his side. Hesitantly, Ren shifted from the bed to the chair you were curled in. You observed his reflection in the glass, the song uninterrupted. He moved onto the floor in front of you, kneeling there and watching your face.

 

There was something so raw in his gaze. Like a wide-eyed child introduced to the beauty in life. You shifted in the chair, and your voice was momentarily shaky. He stared at you as Rey often did. You extended a hand to him, allowing it to hover in the air inches from his face. His hand was softer than you had believed it would be. Like Rey’s, they were callused from all their years of use. Inclining his head, Ren rested his forehead on the back of your hand and then curled his arms across your lap to instead lay there. You stroked his hair. The first time your fingers raked through is locks, he tensed. The second time, a shudder visibly ran through him.

 

Wetness gathered in your lap as you sang. You at last fully understood why a part of Rey had always refused to give up on this man. There was love in her for him, though on a different level than the love between the pair of you. It did not taint a thing. It never cheapened what was shared with you and her. In this moment, it strengthened it. You adored Rey for empathizing with and having compassion for this broken man. He struggled to find peace, going about it in all the wrong ways.

 

It was almost sad. Had he not already made the step to abandon the Darkness by saving your life and leaving the First Order, it would have been absolutely tragic.

 

You sang to him, your voice rising in volume in order to ensure he could fully enjoy the song. In order to ensure that he would allow himself to cry without feeling ashamed that you could hear.

~

 

It was Ben Solo who slumbered when your beloved arrived. You were propped up, and he was curled against your side, as though by touching you he could absorb some of the peace you had achieved. The woman you loved did not break the door in. Somehow she knew that it would not be necessary, that you were safe. Her footfalls were soft, and you could hardly hear them. She glanced at Ben then looked to you. You read the relief on her face, saw how it was coupled with confusion. And so you whispered to her the truth: _he had saved you_.

 

Rey swayed where she stood, her hand shooting out to grab the wall so that she was able to steady herself. When she gathered herself together, the woman you so adored walked to the bed and stood beside you. Her hand cupped the side of your face. She leaned down, pressed her lips to yours, and then looked at the man who had saved your life. There was love in her eyes. Once more, you found an absence of jealousy, for you shared her feelings. You saw this man not only through your eyes but through Rey’s. It was how Ben viewed you. Observing you with his own two eyes while also seeing you how Rey did.

 

You lifted the blankets enough that, after she slipped out of her shoes, Rey was able to climb underneath the covers with you. Her arms were around your body. She rested her head on your chest, and reached for the sleeping Ben Solo. You smiled softly, relishing in the sight of her stroking his cheek. Something she had been fighting for—this proved to her that hope was not a fool’s errand. She had experienced countless heartaches and hurts that you wanted this for her more than anything. She would be allowed to drown in this moment of bliss. The war would not allow Ben Solo to return so easily. Yet she and you would return the gesture; he had saved you, and together you and Rey would help to keep him safe.

 

Ben Solo awoke hours later. Rey had slept with you, all three of you entwined together. The two of them sat by the window to speak when they were both conscious. There was nothing that they held back for your sake; their words not whispers, though there were no shouts either. When either of them, or even both of them together, wept, you ached for their sake. Rey extended her arms to you, and you moved next to her, holding her as she clutched to you. She grabbed the front of Ben’s shirt, nearly dragging him forward so that the three of you together could fully connect.

 

Peace should have been impossible for any of you. Rey with her tragedies, with the responsibilities placed on her shoulders. Ben with his past sins and all the hurts he had been carrying. The pain of living day to day for you; those physical agonies that you could easily ignore when you saw her—and now his—face.

 

You felt so loved, and love was worth dying for—more importantly, love was worth _living_ for. Life was less difficult, no matter the struggles, when you were so filled with love.

 

The three of you fit together more perfectly than you could ever describe. Her lips. His lips. Your lips. They danced together in a harmony that could not be broken as your bodies undulated. The hands that had once killed now soothed. Ben wrapped each of his arms around one of you. Rey curled against his left side while you remained on his right. You pressed more tightly against him, your mouth on his bare chest. Your hand was met by Rey’s as you wrapped your limb around him. Ben trembled, possibly overcome with emotions as much as he was drowning in arousal. The sensation was felt all the more deeply, for all three of you, because of the connection shared.

 

When he was inside of you, you held onto Rey’s hands and kissed her mouth. While Ben moved within Rey, she stroked you, her fingers teasing out moans that Ben muffled as he pressed his mouth to yours. It was gentle then rough. Fervent. The three of you melding together with every position achieved.

 

And though the war would temporarily take her away as she fought for peace for the galaxy, the three of you already had that. A reason to live through the pain, no matter how great. It was hard. It was the most difficult thing, and many would wonder why none of the three of you would give into death. Whenever you were together, you, Rey and Ben would share a knowing smile.

 

To one another, you each made it all worth it.


End file.
